forever in our fingertips

Today you get a poem.

It felt like forever in our fingertips,

Rocks flung from commitment-phobic palms

into a cacophony of water,

indifferent to our suffering.

And as we screamed obscenities,

unforgotten injustices,

into the river,

there was peace for a flickering moment.

A contradiction,

one second of feeling broken and whole;

empty and everything.

It was like forever in our fingertips—

 A feeble forever that we tied to those rocks

and half hurled from our bodies.

A forever that was sucked away,

involuntarily dismissed,

like the laughs bubbling from our lungs,

like the tears leaking from our eyes.

It was like forever in our fingertips,

slipping away because it never existed.

not asking for forever

Girl, sitting in a tree,
writing letters into the bark
she never imagined she'd scrawl:
dp's girlfriend.
Embellishing with a heart,
her pink pen completes the cliche.
No foolish forevers, though.
She only promises the present.

This paper girl, she's perching between branches,
eyes dwelling on the forever sky,
thoughts jumbled and raw,
happiness seeping through the folds
of her flimsy, borrowed body.
Recycled stardust is all she possesses
and she doesn't get to keep it.
Probably wouldn't, if she could.

She lingers longer on forever,
incorrect concept that it is.
Does infinity make right now meaningless?
Or meaningful? She can't tell.

The satisfaction she breathes is foreign.
She'd forgotten how to not want more,
more love, more laughter, more hugs, more kisses.
She doesn't need more now, isn't asking for forever.
For once, she has enough.